


anticipation

by only_partly



Category: Taskmaster (UK TV) RPF
Genre: BDSM, Bondage, Cock & Ball Torture, Cock Cages, Cock Slut, Collars, Dehumanization, F/M, Humiliation, M/M, Massage, Multi, Objectification, Strap-Ons, Verbal Humiliation, hole spanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-02
Updated: 2020-07-02
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:21:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25027624
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/only_partly/pseuds/only_partly
Summary: By the time the lock beeps and clicks open, Alex Horne has been packed neatly away and Little Alex Horne, the Taskmaster’s Assistant, is the only one present, and the only thing he feels is anticipation.
Relationships: Greg Davies/Alex Horne, Greg Davies/Alex Horne/Liza Tarbuck
Comments: 2
Kudos: 49





	anticipation

Another time, another place, another scene that would make Alex intensely uncomfortable except that - he knows, bone deep, that while Greg is here everything will be all right and also - he craves being intensely uncomfortable as much as he hates it.

He’s barely in the door before he’s stripping, suit jacket and trousers hung neatly over the back of a chair to be put away at his leisure, afterwards, and dress shirt in the wash. The thong Greg put him in this morning, he leaves on. Greg’s text was explicit, in both senses of the word, and if he only has five minutes before Greg and their visitors arrive, he would do well to make the most of them.

He reaches for the lube they keep accessible in various places throughout the house, all the better to have ready to hand in case Greg gets a whim, and pushes two fingers into his hole without preamble. He almost wishes he’d worn a plug before he left this morning, but Master hadn’t instructed him to, and if Master comes in and Alex is too loose, he’ll be punished. He might be punished regardless, but this way at least he’s done his best. Three fingers, and his pulse is beating in his ears, wondering who it is that Master will be bringing with him. He hopes, almost despite himself, that it’s not Rhod. He likes Rhod very much, as Greg’s friend, and not at all as Master’s. Alex may be a masochist to some degree, but he doesn’t think anyone is a masochist to the degree that Rhod is a sadist. It takes everything he has and every minute of training as his Master’s boy to endure those sessions. 

Thirty seconds left, and he wipes his fingers off on his thigh, replaces the lube, and sits facing the door, hands clasped behind him, head lowered, and knees well apart. He’s had plenty of time to memorize the weave and pattern of the rug underneath him, through the years, but as ever his eyes follow the swoop, circle, swoop of it as his shoulders lower and his mind begins to sink into subspace. By the time the lock beeps and clicks open, Alex Horne has been packed neatly away and Little Alex Horne, the Taskmaster’s Assistant, is the only one present, and the only thing he feels is anticipation.

Greg smiles, for a split second, when he sees Alex knelt waiting for him, and Alex’s sense of submission sits up and preens. Then the person filling the doorway is all Master, frowning and clicking his fingers impatiently for Alex. Alex crawls obediently forward, pressing a kiss to both of his Master’s shoes as he sets down his keys and wallet with Alex’s in the bowl by the door. Master grasps him by the hair, pulling him back up with one hand as he reaches for the drawer pull with the other. Alex’s eyes follow his hand, greedy as he always is for the moment he can let go entirely. 

“Did you do as you were told?” Master asks sternly. Alex’s collar is in his hand, now, the tag that reads ‘slut’ mostly covered by one large finger. “Is everything ready for our visitors?”

“Yes, Master.” Alex licks his lips, eyes still on the collar. He would be swaying towards it without Master’s firm grip in his hair. 

“I’ll be the judge of that.” Master says, with a grunt as he leans over. “I’ve seen the slapdash results when you’re left to your own devices.”

“Yes, Master.” Alex holds very still as Master prods at his hole and snaps the waistband of the thong a couple of times against his cockhead.

Master straightens again, peering down at Alex disdainfully from over his glasses. “Adequate, slut. I suppose you want this?” He dangles the collar in front of Alex.

Alex tries not to beg outright. He fails. “Please, Master.” He swallows hard, feeling perilously close to tears already, before anything’s even happened. “Please, Master, I’ll be good for your guests, I promise I will, I -”

“Oh, shut up.” Master rolls his eyes. “You’d better keep your whiny mouth shut once they get here, if you know what’s good for you. It should be open for two things only - sucking cock and saying ‘yes, master’. No one wants to hear you snivel.” His hands, though, are gentle as he finally,  _ finally _ , buckles the collar around Alex’s neck, tight enough that he can feel the weight of it as he swallows.

“Yes, Master.” Alex can’t keep himself from touching it, just quickly, before he goes back to position. “Thank you, Master.”

Greg nudges at his cockcage with a disdainful toe. “And be thankful this is already locked up, because I can tell you right now there’s not a chance in hell you’ll be doing anything other than dribbling from your pathetic little prick from the feeling of a real man’s cock in one of your holes.”

Without giving Alex a chance to respond, he hauls him up, grip tight enough on Alex’s arm that maybe, hopefully, it will leave a bruise. In short order Alex is strapped to the bed, the black leather cuffs Greg uses when he doesn’t want to bother with anything more complicated fastened around Alex’s wrists and ankles and then hooked to the d-rings already screwed firmly into the wooden bedframe. Their net worth combined might not rival Gwenyth Paltrow’s, but they have enough to pay for the nice solid craftsmanship instead of making do with Ikea pressboard. Greg slips a finger between the cuffs and Alex’s limbs, glances at Alex for a final query if anything needs to be adjusted, and then steps back at his negative, the Taskmaster again. 

“There,” he says, “Finally. Do you need a gag to keep you quiet so I can have some peace and quiet without your whinging?”

Alex shakes his head, mouth obediently still, and then there’s a knock on the door and it opens without waiting for a response. Master smiles. “Excellent. You’re in for a  _ treat _ , slut.”

He leaves the room, leaving Alex to twist in his cuffs and feel the reassuring clasp of them holding him safely still, helping him be good for his master. He can hear the low rumble of his master’s voice, then the higher timbre of the guest. 

The bedroom door opens a minute later, and Master enters, followed by Liza. She is dressed comfortably, in a black cotton dress that flows around her like water ebbing around a rock, and her face and hair are clean of any make-up or styling. She looks at home. At ease. She looks Alex, naked save for his collar and cage, up and down and says, deeply unimpressed, “This it?”

Master, leaning against the doorjamb, shrugs a shoulder. “Has it’s uses.”

Liza makes a dubious noise. “There’s not even a working cock.”

“That little thing? Of course I don’t let him use it; there’s no way anyone would get pleasure from it. Much better to have it safely locked away. His mouth is adequate, though.”

Alex feels himself flush as much from pleasure at being described as adequate as from the intense scrutiny of someone that outside of the scene and this house he would have called a colleague; a friend, even.

Liza hums again. “How are the hands?”

“Not bad. Not so good as the mouth or hole, but y’know. We work with what we have.”

“True enough.” Liza wanders away from Alex, pulling off her dress with the same easy unselfconsciousness of someone in their own bedroom. “I feel a bit in the mood for a nice massage, actually, but I’ve got no interest if he’s just going to bollocks it up.”

“I can promise you he won’t do that if he knows what’s good for him.” Master pushes off the doorframe and comes forward with something that can only be described as a saunter. “Shall I uncuff him for you?”

“Just his hands are enough, I’d think.” Liza stretches out on Greg’s king-sized bed, stretching as though Alex has already vacated it, or as though he is such a non-entity that whether he is there or not is irrelevant. “Hurry up, slut.”

Alex slides deeper into subspace, as easily as slipping into a bath just this side of too hot, as Master clicks open the clasps holding him spread eagled to the bed and instead fastens his wrists cuffs to each other, with just enough slack to make giving a massage difficult but not impossible. Then he smirks at Alex, making no move to help him up or position him to begin servicing Liza. Alex struggles up to his knees, knowing he looks awkward and knowing how much Greg is enjoying watching him contort himself to sit upright, and hating how much he loves the embarrassed flush spilling all the way down his chest.

He bends to his work, calling up every memory of every massage he’s ever given his master or Rachel or even a mate in uni, using the heels of his hands and his thumbs until his hands are as sore as his arse or throat usually are by this time of night. It must be at least an hour before Liza even stirs - and Master has been amusing himself by playing with the plug still lodged firmly in his arse every few minutes, always at a time when Alex was about to change positions.

The only thing Liza says is,

“Mouth, slut.”

Alex gratefully drops to his stomach, easing the strain from his wrists and arms, and buries his face between Liza’s legs. The position she’s in, he’s forced to crouch a little, legs still tethered to the baseboard and her arse too far down for six foot two of him to stretch out comfortably to eat her out. Naturally, this puts his own arse in perfect position for Greg, who slaps both cheeks four or five times before landing the heaviest blow directly over Alex’s hole, jolting the plug directly into his prostate, and he forgets himself enough to grunt. 

His fleeting hope that the noise was buried deep enough in Liza’s taint to escape notice is dashed when Master hauls him back by the collar. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, very quietly, face like a thundercloud, “Do we care to hear any noises from a pathetic, disgusting slut?”

Alex shakes his head rapidly. Beside and a little behind him, Liza sits up, heavy-lidded, with her hair falling tousled across her back.

“Correct. No. Liza, I apologise for this. A slut is a slut is a slut, but he’s usually a  _ little _ better behaved than this.”

“Probably just needs a good buggering too much to focus.” She looks her disapproval at Alex, who feels himself shrinking in response. He can be good! He’ll be a good slut, if only they’ll give him the chance to try again, he’d beg if he were allowed to speak, but even noises are prohibited, and so he can only plead with his eyes, sagging a little in his master’s grip.

Greg tosses him down again, carelessly. He spreads Alex’s arse with two hands, gripping hard enough that Alex is almost certain to have bruises, and spits. Alex can feel it dripping down his crack, slowly cooling and disgusting. He wants to cry at how grateful he is for even this little gift of his Master’s regard, a little piece of his essence for a slut to feel, to reassure him he is still kept.

Liza lays back again, spreading her legs and prodding Alex with her toes. “Well, I suppose we might as well fuck it,” she says, managing to sound as disinterested as though she were speaking of taking out the bins. “You might if I have it’s mouth?”

“Not at all,” Greg says, gracious. “Be a treat for the slut, won’t it, a cock as big as yours.”

Liza smiles, cruelty tucked in the corner of it like a kiss in the mouth of a kinder dom. “Always wanted to double team your boy, ever since the first time I saw you two together. A magnificent beast and his cock-hungry whore. Knew it’d be spectacular.” She leans over the bed, catching something up and shaking it out. It’s a strap on, one with the vibrating insert that rests perfectly over the clit and the other end -

Greg is big. It’s proportionate, all right. But this thing - Alex has had big things in his throat (see exhibit A.; Greg’s cock), but this is bad dragon level big. Liza sees him watching, eyes wide, and smiles directly at him, stroking her cock with both hands, caressing it as she covers it with lube. Making love to a thing of silicone more kindly than she would ever look at him.

“That’s nice, isn’t it, slut,” Master croons in his ear, one hand gathering his balls and squeezing a warning. “Go on, show your gratitude for the nice big cock Liza’s letting you put your filthy mouth on.” He shoves Alex, hard, so he falls face forward onto the bed, unable to catch himself with his cuffed hands, and the cock hits his cheek with an audible sticky sound. Above him, Liza laughs.

He struggles up enough to get his mouth on it, pushing himself determinedly down - two inches, before he chokes. Before he can recover, the plug is pulled from his arse, and Master sheathes himself in his hole in the same breath, shoving him further down Liza’s cock. He’s left to catch what gasps of air he can, pulled mercilessly between them, growing messier with lube and precome and Liza’s slick with every second, and the knowledge that there was no reason for the lube on the silicone dick settles with all the other little humiliations on his chest, pushing him deeper still into submissiveness. Liza is riding his face just as hard as Master is riding his arse, his only relief from the thick push of her cock when she grabs him by the hair and pushes him lower, to tongue at her arse for a few moments before pulling him back to deepthroat a cock she can’t even feel, that she covered with lube simply to watch him grow messier and messier as he tries desperately to pull an orgasm from silicone.

Behind him, Master waits until he’s once again choking from an attempt to deep throat an impossibly thick dick to pull out, but before Alex can cry out in dismay, he’s having to stifle a grunt of pain - Greg is slapping his hole again, and he’s using something other than his hand - his belt, maybe. It sends a bolt of pain rocketing through him, and Master’s other hand settles around his bollocks again, a warning squeeze, and he swallows the whine, muffling himself on Liza’s cock as best he can, and he’s rewarded by the warmth and familiar burn of Master’s cock pushing into his hole again, made tighter by the pain, and the small noise of satisfaction that he only hears when Master is very pleased indeed.

“That’s tightened you right up,” Master says, his voice nearly warm, and the slut clenches his hole still further, despite the pain, because his master is pleased, he’s  _ pleased _ , and he’s got a cock in his mouth and another in his arse and his master sounds happy with him, and Master’s friend is making soft, pleased noises above him, and despite the ache in his shoulders and back that he knows he’ll be feeling tomorrow he’s floating far too high to pay any attention to it right now.

“Good slut,” Master croons, “There’s my cock-hungry whore. That’s right, push back on your master’s dick, take it, your useless cock all locked up, my collar around your neck, nothing to focus on but our pleasure, that’s my boy, taking me so well, making me feel so good, making Liza feel good, your holes around our dicks, keeping us nice and warm. You feel that, slut? I’m about to give you my come, let you feel it dripping out of you the rest of the night, all nasty and used, just how you like. Take it, good boy,  _ take it _ .” Master thrusts two, three more times, and groans as he spills himself inside of the slut, Liza gasping her way to climax a minute later. 

The slut floats through the cock being removed from his mouth and the cock in his arse being replaced by his plug, keeping his Master’s come safely stored, and his Master’s voice is in his ears, the rumble of it soothing even if he understands none of the words. He surfaces enough to whine a complaint when he feels his collar being unbuckled, and Greg’s hands still and he chuckles. “All right, Alex, you can keep it a little while longer.”

He’s being cleaned, sweat and slick and come being sponged gently off of him, and for a moment Alex thinks he hears Liza speaking to him, but then the sound is gone, too fast for him to focus on it, and it’s just Greg’s voice again, a ramble about nothing in particular as he waits for Alex to come back up, and Alex will, but for these next few moments, he’ll let himself drift. Just a little while longer.


End file.
